Keeping the Balance
by sweetkiwi604
Summary: He could escape the canyons but never the hunger in him for their screams, their blood. One shot. Complete.


**SO many thanks to Halohunter89 for giving me the courage to post this. It's short but I wanted to try something different than my other stories. Hope you enjoy!**

Keeping the Balance

The boundaries which divide life from death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where one ends, and where the other begins? -Edgar Allan Poe

Rain poured out of the clouds that blanketed the desolate town; lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and it was as if nature was preparing to mask the screams. There was a balance that needed to be kept and if the scale titled too much in either direction it would create an inconsumable chaos. During the light hours of the day it was filled with hope and inspiration until the shadows of the night crept in like a thick smoke bringing with it fear and desperation. Exactly twelve hours of each without a second more.

Every day when the sun set he'd once again become the ruler of his kingdom, skilled and calculated. It only took one look in his eyes to see the demons that were trying to be set free. He could escape the shackles of the canyons but no matter where he went the thirst for blood would always be too strong. The storm surged through him as he thought about his pet chained in the basement waiting on baited breath for only him. There was a slice for every smile, a burn for every memory, and a death for every new life.

Music blared throughout the house, the volume vibrating the thin paned glass, the bass in sync with her raised heart rate. The only light on in the whole place was a single light bulb swinging by a wire in the middle of the room. The shadows of the room danced around like hell's deviants trying to get a hold of her angelic soul. A mirror hung above her so that even when her body went numb she could still see his beautiful destruction. Cemented walls with its chipped paint enclosed the room she was being kept in. The mattress she laid on was polluted with years of the tortured women before her.

Her once styled hair was a tangled, matted mess that hung lifelessly around her face. The makeup she wore was smudged and trickled down her cheeks appearing as if they were tattooed tears. Her florescent pink dress was in shreds in a pile on the floor leaving her exposed. She'd run her tongue over her dry cracked lips hoping for even an ounce of relief but the attempts were useless.

Mac came down the stairs and stood outside of the room for a moment taking in the sight before him. Her arms were above her head and bound together with an old telephone wire. Each of her legs had chains secured around them and attached to the adjacent walls, spreading her apart for him. He heard her whimpering and following something on the wall with her eyes. He stepped into the room with a cigarette hanging from his lips as his eyes slowly raked over her tattered body. There wasn't one inch he didn't know, didn't touch, didn't torture. He glanced over to see a spider scurrying up the wall and he walked over letting the fuzzy arachnid crawl into his hand.

Mac crouched down next to her, placing the spider on her snow white stomach and watching as her whole body went rigid in fear. The spider slowly crept up her torso, each step causing her body to shake despite her trying to stay perfectly still, until it stopped over her heart. It was the perfect image and one he wouldn't soon forget.

This was his kingdom come where there was no place to hide and where the beast's will would be done. Her whimpering was like music to his ears but just observing her torment would never be enough. He scooped the spider into his hand and released it on the floor where it scurried out into the hallway. He took another drag from his cigarette as he brandished his knife, the tip glistening in the low light, and slowly slid it from cheek to cheek drawing a sickening smile on her face.

Surprised she had any tears left at all he shook his head and tutted blowing out a perfect circle of smoke. "Shouldn't put your life so easily in someone else's hands their bound to steal it away."

Crouching next to her, he sliced across both breasts, littering her chest with alternating long and short cuts as if creating a masterpiece. All except the place over her heart where he carved an exact replica of the spider that had been sitting there moments ago. The screams were all the same, it didn't matter who he took or what he decided to do with that particular pet, he fed off their fear. Mesmerized by the blood, he was almost in a trance as it seeped into the mattress below her mixing with stale blood of his previous toys.

The distinct aroma of sin coating her body had his mouth watering and he ran his thumb along the blade before sticking it in his mouth to get his first taste. That one drop was enough to ignite the spark in his soul and make him crave more. He leaned over, sinking his teeth into one of her breasts the metallic taste from the cuts flooding his mouth and coating his rotten teeth making him appear as if he were a wild animal. He took one last drag of his cigarette before snubbing it out in the palm of her hand. He didn't want to simply kill her, torture her body, he needed to crucify her.

Her body trembled, whether it be from fear or pain, as he used his finger to draw patterns in the blood tracing it down to the most sensitive area of her body.

"Please…" she pathetically begged like he would ever listen to her.

Her pleas were only fueling that spark turning it into a wild fire burning throughout him as he brought the tip of the knife between her legs, separating her folds. She cried out, her actually praying to him that he would stop, and a menacing chuckle escaped as blood trickled from her clit. Seeing her pussy slick with the crimson fluid had his dick straining against his jeans.

"No, no, no, no, no!" She screamed as he rose from the bed, unclasping his belt and letting his pants fall around his ankles.

With her blood still on his hand Mac stroked himself a few times, his eyes taking in every inch of her. It was in these exact moments that he felt like he was back in the canyons doing what he did best but this time he didn't have Walter breathing down his neck. He could take the tramps on the corners, the ones no one would miss or even look for, and torture them until the inferno in him was fed.

He positioned himself between her legs and ran his dick up and down her slit coating it with blood before ramming into her. He growled in frustration as he thrust into her again. She wasn't as tight as he expected, too stretched from the years of selling herself to the highest bidder, except this time she'd be the one to pay the price. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, flinging droplets of blood onto the wall behind her as fresh tears streaked down her cheeks. She might not have been what he anticipated but damn if she wasn't painting a stunning picture.

Her body began responding to him driving his dick into her and he snarled in response. "Dirty little whore."

Mac's hand secured around her throat to keep her from springing back from his intrusion as he increased his pace fully intent on ripping the bitch into two. Her eyes started to flutter and he let up on the pressure on her neck enough to the point she started coughing. Originally, he had done it to prolong his pleasure and her torture but each cough made her pussy spasm around his dick. It almost made up for the fact she was rode hard and put away wet, almost.

He could feel her hip pop as it dislocated from one of his thrusts but the cry of pain only soothed the wounds in soul. He drove into her over and over bringing himself to the point of climax, little beads of sweat speckling his brow as he came deep inside of her. An eerie calm washed over him as he pulled out of her and tugged his pants back up not bothering with the belt so they hung low on his hips.

She was truly a beautiful tragedy but as his boot hit the bottom step of the stairs she was already forgotten, his mind already set on his next pet.


End file.
